Winter Nights
by L. B. Frost
Summary: We all know the story by now: After drowning, Jack Frost was alone for 300 years before joining the Guardians to fight the Nightmare King, Pitch Black. But what about the years in between? And just what WAS the "Blizzard of '69"? Told as a candid confession, this is what happened those long, empty years that passed. T FOR Language/Thematic elements(I'm a liar DX)
1. Resurrection

Darkness... that's the first thing I remember.

It was cold, and dark... and I was scared. But then...then I saw the moon. It was so big and bright.. it seemed to..chase the darkness away. And after that, I wasn't afraid anymore.

I opened my eyes as the ice broke free, gasping as the air hit my lungs like a punch to gut, the air stinging my eyes for a second, as I blinked, trying to get the icy water out of them. I felt like I was floating away, rising above the Earth like a cloud. The moon shone down, full and big.. for a second, I smiled.

Then I lowered, gently, to the ice, my feet slipping for a second, but I quickly caught my balance. I looked down, my hands quivering...my hands...

I turned them over, looking at the paleness of my skin, the icy veins lacing it like spider webs. It was very interesting. I touched my face for a second, stupidly, like I was checking to make sure it was still there, then looked up at the moon again, still big and bright above the Earth. If I looked just right, it almost looked like there was a face, smiling at me kindly, an ancient face, but a soft one, unlined.

I smiled, chuckling to myself.

I looked all around, everything amazing: the..things..uhm...oh, yeah..the trees, lining the bank of the...the..pond..yes of course, the pond, silent watchers in the night, watching, a light breeze rustling their leaves like whispers. I walked along, staring into the branches overhead, when my foot hit something hard that skittered across the ice, gently rolling back like a faithful pet. I knelt, confused: a..stick? No...a staff. A big one, gently curved at the end, rough, yet soft, like it had been handled for many years before ending up on the ice like this.

I touched it, gasping and shading my eyes as a piercing blue glare startled me, making me drop the staff to the iced pond, the end thudding hard. At once, tendrils of frost started off in fern patterns, tracing away from the staff point as if startled. I stared at it in amazement: what was this now?

I tapped a spindly tree with it, watching the frost curl up and down it like a living thing, laughing to myself.

I took off across the ice, dragging the end after me, frost spiraling all around as I whirled, laughing all the while. I got a good running start, but took a header, suddenly wafting up way too high, floating over the pond as it iced over.

I struggled for balance, then dropped suddenly, bashing through tree limb after tree limb, finally smacking hard ona wide branch near the tree bottom, my breath knocked out of me for a second.

I sat up, chuckling about my fall, when lights caught my eye: fires...a town?

Leaping from the branch, I let the wind catch me again, flinging me up into the sky and across the moon, hovering low over dirt tracks and horses' hooves prints, until I crash landed in a snow pile on the outskirts of the large area in the center of the village, people bustling all around me on various night activities. I stood, wiping my hands off, and ran off into the crowd, waving to everyone I saw.

"Good evening, ma'am." I said to an older woman, as she hustled past with a wine jug. She ignored me, but I didn't let it faze me. A group of kids were running around in a wild tag game, and I laughed. "Hey..can you tell me where I a.."

THe boy ran...and ran through me, an icy shock shooting along all my veins, making me gasp. I stood, more and more people walking through me as the headed home, the fires being doused left and right.

"Hello? Can't..can.t anyone hear me? Hello?" I called, but no one noticed.

Soon, I was left standing in the dark, one hand over my racing heart. I clenched my fist, glancing at the fresh snow that had begun to fall.

I turned away from the houses, and headed down a dark path, going deeper and deeper into the woods, walking on and on, never once looking up. My feet were pale, and laced with more veins.

I finally stopped about 5 miles away, and screamed, falling to my knees and holding my head, screaming out all my pain, screaming for someone to hear me, to see me.

I fell on my side, curled up like a baby, hugging my knees as I sobbed, the staff glowing faintly besides me.

_Jack._

I looked up, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "W..who?"

_Your name. It's Jack Frost. _

The voice, so deep, kind, old yet young, then faded, I called for it, but it never came back. I looked all along the path, but saw nothing but a pair of spooked jackrabbits. I finally looked up, and saw the moon glide out from behind silvery clouds, so big..so bright..

"W..was that..was that you?" I whispered, the tears freezing on my cheeks.

It didn't reply. After all these years, it still hasn't.

My name is Jack Frost.

How do I know that?

Because the moon told me so.

And that...was a very, very long time ago.


	2. Southampton, 1912

-1912

The ship was finally setting sail, people running around and yelling, kids acting bratty, parents waving to loved ones they were leaving behind. After all the blood and sweat put into this ship, it was finally on its way to newer shores, never to return. Well, with they way the made those bolts, "never to return" might be a apt term.

I folded my arms, ignoring all the people more or less, lying back on the hard wood of the deck chair. It was a first classier, so it was slightly better, and at least had a pillow, but was still pretty unfriendly to your rear when you sat on it for too long, with hard wooden supports digging into your back the whole time. Very useless, really.

I sat up, about to stand, when an old woman lowered onto the chair with a sigh, sitting right in me.

"Hey!" I stood angrily, but of course she didn't hear or see me, let alone know she'd just SAT in someone.

I grabbed my staff, and idly tapped the cane propped besides her, the silver tip slicking over with ice, enough to ensure she's slip and fall back into the chair when she attempted to stand up later.

I walked over, tossing my staff back over my shoulder, taking a deep breath of the salty sea air, watching Southampton fade into the distance, gone for good. I'd had my fun, but I really wanted to see something new for a change, and this ship was an ample place for fun. True, I would've just used the winds and been there in no time flat, but hey: not everyone could say the were on Titanic in her maiden voyage, could they?

The day was clear, slightly chilly. I could fix that, but at the moment I didn't feel like doing much of anything except explore. There was more than ample enough amount of time to wreck some havoc later.

I headed down the first class stairs, watching the stuffy rich people walk on with their noses in the air. For people who supposedly wanted to aid the poor when they could, or at least as they claimed, they certainly had no respect for even each other, bumping into one another with rude "Watch where you're going's", and pushing past each other. It was sorta entertaining. The low class people were all pretty nice, and liked to party a lot. It got wild in their homes during the long Winter nights, and I really expected no less here on the ship.

The deck finally started to clear a little, people streaming down the steps like mad, heading onto lunch or other things, separating into groups at once. People did love separation here, I though, sitting down on a wicker chair to watch.

The day wore on, and nothing much happened, really. Nothing much happened AT ALL for the next days at sea: dinners, wild parties in 3rd class, more boring rich people yakking it up in the smoking room...

The last night threw a wrench into everything when we hit. I fell hard, blinking at the sudden jolt, as a few people sat up in bed around me, the 1st class room I was sleeping in housing 5 people. They fell back asleep, but I lay awake most of the night, until the knocks at 2 am, and the distant sound of people freaking out and yelling, rushing to the staris.

We'd apparently hit an iceberg, and were going down.

I watched the family dress quickly, heading out to lifeboats, people in 3rd class screaming from behind locked gates, the lower classes left as the stewards ran off. Popping the cheap lock was easy, and people ran through me, one after another...except for one young woman, Irish, frizzy red hair sticking out under a headrag, eyes frantic as she held a infant close.

"Thank you..." She whispered, looking right at me, seeing me.. "thank you for this."

She took off then, and I watched her go, feeling strange, even as a few people stared at her. To them, she'd been talking to utterly empty air.

The whole thing was a major mess, and it got bad, really bad. You all know how it ended.

The woman survived: she and her child were on a lifeboat. I sat next to her, hidden in some blankets, as heard her ask where the "Pale lad with the staff" had gone to, and if he was alright. Everyone assumed she'd hit her head, or seen a reflection, or who knows what all.

To be honest, belief in someone like her was odd to see, and I never forgot her.

I hope her child lived a long life. They probably did. Dunbroch was the last name. I remember it from the roll-call at New York.

I hope she lived a good life.


End file.
